


The sound echoes

by cuneifire



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Abusive Relationships, I should probably tag that, Inspired by Music, M/M, Music, Phase Five (Gorillaz), Possibly Unrequited Love, basically a reflection on 2d and murdoc's relationship, because souk eye did Things to me, with song lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 16:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuneifire/pseuds/cuneifire
Summary: 2d is torn.





	The sound echoes

**Author's Note:**

> is gorillaz still a thing? because in my mind it's still a thing.
> 
> Edit: I believe the lyrics to this song have been changed with the official studio release, hence why the lyrics are a bit different than said version. Just fyi.

_I_ _will, always love to think about you…_

2d’s hands drift over the paper, pale white pressing against snow white paper. The ink stains over his hands.

He shakes his head, slitting his eyes and feeling the migraine seep into his mind.

No, no,  _no._ It’s not  _right,_ he thinks, cursing himself. The words don’t match up with this- this impossible thing pressing in the inside of his chest when his emotons seem to be doing that thing again; twisting around and constricting and failing to match it. Toying.

He shuts his eyes, feeling the words fall to an even darker shade of black.

 _You still complicate me,_ he scribbles down, blind as red handwriting scraps the paper. He hates the pen he writes in; he much prefers blue or even black ink to red, but he can’t seem to unclench his fingers from it.

_It was Murdoc’s damned pen. He wrote music with it. Music for the band._

_-If loving you’s a felony,-_

No, yes, no,  _yes._ His mind can’t configure why the words as to why they come to his mind when he thinks of the bassist, but they do, unabidden.

- _then im a renegade,_

Renegade to what? His own thoughts? Everything Murdoc had done to him- that, that was still with him. Everything?  _Everything?_

Murdoc. God, where was Murdoc?

 _I’m in jail, ya fuckin’ numbskull,_ he can hear Murdoc’s voice in the back of his mind.  _I already knew that, Muds._ He replies to the configuration of his band mate in his head.

It’s just that he’s gone mad, he thinks as he stares down blankly at the paper. Something is fucking wrong with him. He thinks of it- all the things he’d like to write. The break up songs, the friendship songs, the I’m-not-there-yet-but-I’ll-get-better songs, the I've-found-someone-better-than-you-in-every-way songs. .

He’s tried; Humility almost worked, but still it strikes in his mind, those words;  _do i walk away when i know that it’s broken?_

_Do i?_

 He looks at the phone; wonders who he would call with it.

 But his gaze is drawn back to the paper, its taunting blankness. His hand immediately clasps around the pen, drawing blood red ink as he scribbles down useless lyrics that don’t do anything but make things even more confusing.

The words in his mind don’t configure, but still he thinks them. The song  pours out of his hand and his mind, messy ink staining everywhere; his hand, his arms, his fingers and his lips from brushing to them.

 _Murdoc,_ god, what is wrong with him; that's all that he can think of.  _Murdoc, I’ve been so much better off without you._ He wants to write that; a song about how much he's improved, how he’s his own person now, how everything in his life has changed since Murdoc left and it's all been for the better.

But the only thing he can write is a love song.

 _Why do you look so beautiful to me, when you’re so sad?_ Pen drifts over paper and ink stains his lips.  _It’s not sad, it’s a fucking tragedy. God, Murdoc, am i that? Is that all i am? A fucking tragedy._

He can picture it in his mind, somewhere in the depths of the back of his thoughts.

_I wanna be a regular guy for you-_

_(God, Murdoc, what would we do then?)_

_-i never promised you that,_ he can hear with a clear ring as his bandmates’ response. Curt words, slanted eyes. No promises, no commitments, no dedications.

His fingers run around the rimmed scar that curves up his wrist; he doesn’t know where he got it from; could be from falling out of that tree, could be from when Murdoc knocked him catatonic and back, could be from anything between that and now. 2d bruised easily.

 _I wann be your- sun?_ He crossed that option out.  _Moon?_ He bit his lip in concentration, frowning at the paper, running his tongue over the empty space where his front two teeth should be.  _2d, 2d, lost his two front teeth,_ his brain rhythms unhelpfully at him, and eventually he jerks his thoughts from there to the present.

_I wanna be your star, love._

His breath catches on the simple sweet nothing, things so similar to things he’d heard Murdoc say (not to him, of course,  ha, what a good joke, you should really tell it at a party some time-).

 _I will, always, think about you,_ he writes, messy bits of his soul scrambling over the paper in a mash of words that barely pull into sense.

But it’s true, he thinks as his thoughts are slowly drawn away from the here and now to somewhere else; sometime else,  _someone_ else.

 _I’ll always think about you, Muds._ He thinks, pressing the tip of the pen to his open palm. The ink’s the same colour as blood.

_Although some part of me doubts that’s a good thing._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! I'm kinda eh on this thing and also it's my first gorillaz piece, so it'd be nice to know what you guys think! Hope you like!


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